


Snowstorm

by Professional_Creeper



Series: Holiday Bingo 2020 [6]
Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Fluff, Light Angst, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Other, Snow, Vermont
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:41:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27596318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Professional_Creeper/pseuds/Professional_Creeper
Summary: You never have enough time with your long-distance not-boyfriend Rafael Barba, until he comes to visit you for the holidays and a snowstorm lends a hand.Written for @thatesqcrush’s Holiday Bingo on Tumblr
Relationships: Rafael Barba/Reader
Series: Holiday Bingo 2020 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2093550
Kudos: 17





	Snowstorm

No labels. No strings. That was what you both agreed when you started skyping with A.D.A. Rafael Barba after you returned home from vacation. It wasn’t fair any other way. Long-distance relationships were tricky even when one partner _eventually_ planned to move to be with the other, and neither of you had any such plans.

Barba was a city boy through and through, and he had an important job. You respected that. His passion for helping people was what drew you to him in the first place, and there were not enough violent crimes in your peaceful slice of Vermont to make it worth a high-profile prosecutor’s time.

In contrast, that was precisely why you never wanted to leave.

And yet, whatever unlabeled, stringless thing you had with him was enough to keep coming back to video-chat every week. To text naughty selfies when you knew he was in court. To plan little visits to see each other until something better came along. But nothing better ever did.

He only wished he had more time with you.

* * *

The idyllic White Christmas that Bing Crosby dreamed about is much more of a guarantee in Vermont than it is in the city—so Barba justified taking a day or two off to fly up and see you. As soon as he stepped off the plane and found you rushing into his arms, he knew he made the right choice.

Covered bridges decorated with lights, snow glittering on the tops of red barns—Barba watched a winter wonderland pass outside the window of your car. The distant ridge of mountains grew closer as you drove him from the airport, and then was suddenly behind, the shape of each peak flipped as the scenery grew ever more rustic.

He was only staying for the weekend, and then it was back to Manhattan and the relentless pace of life there. If he stayed away too long, he would miss the energy and the stress that served to motivate him to greater achievement, but he did wish he had a little more time to slow down. To have a warm person keeping him warm at night. Someone to talk to about something other than brutal crimes. Someone to tease. Someone who knew how to make him moan.

On a long dirt road, past where the farm pastures ended and dissolved into unbroken forest, was your cabin. You grabbed some split wood off the pile before opening the unlocked door and kicking your boots off. An old woodstove kept the interior toasty and comfortable, although apparently not enough for your cat, who dramatically sprawled out as close as she could get to the cast iron without burning herself.

Tomorrow, you’d be going next door to your parents’ house for Christmas dinner, but for now, it was just the two of you with nothing to do but stoke the fire, cook together, and cuddle up under a warm blanket with hot tea and cocoa.

It used to take him a while not to feel antsy with nobody depending on him to put out a dozen fires with his legal insight, and with the unsettling silence of the country—realizing he hadn’t heard a single siren since arriving. But this was not his first visit, and he was starting to feel almost at home here. Imagine that. A.D.A. Barba enjoying the quiet. Or maybe it was just the company that he enjoyed.

* * *

His back was cramped in three places from sleeping in a strange bed, but he resisted getting up and stretching. Your arm was draped over his stomach, your leg was hooked over his, and you were snoring softly. Far too peaceful to wake up.

He didn’t have to get out of bed to realize something had happened overnight. Your digital alarm clock was dead. Through the window next to your bed, all he could see was white where he was sure there were meant to be trees and a garden.

The flurry of snow on Christmas Eve turned into a surprise storm of large, heavy flakes that whited out the sky and dropped three feet of snow in eight hours. It was still falling.

There was no way he was catching his flight to New York.

You lit candles, and Barba used your landline (which he finally understood why you had) to call the D.A.’s office and hand his case over to another prosecutor. It stung his professional pride, but… Oh, what a _shame_ it was that he had no case to work on, and no rush to return home. It would be a few days before the plows cleared the roads enough to be safe. He might as well stay for the rest of the week.

The brightness of your smile in response made him feel like the Grinch with his heart growing three sizes. He pressed his lips to yours and held you tight against him, a spark of excitement rushing through every point of contact like the crackling of the woodstove.

It wouldn’t last forever. It couldn’t. But for now, he had what he always wanted. He had more time. 


End file.
